


The Perfect Tree

by danpuff



Series: Christmas Romance - 2020 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Romance, Background snarry, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Romance, Christmas Tree, M/M, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27698726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danpuff/pseuds/danpuff
Summary: Percy is looking for the Christmas tree. Neville helps him find it.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Percy Weasley
Series: Christmas Romance - 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037853
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27





	The Perfect Tree

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the same world as [The Christmas Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27780880), a Snarry story, and [Holidate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27839839), a Draco/Ron and Ginny/Pansy story, but all 3 can be read on their own.

Hagrid whistled a tune as he threw two of the largest trees over his shoulders and marched off with them. Neville cringed and stood in the middle of his rented lot to watch. 

At the street, Hagrid loaded the trees onto a faded red and green sleigh. The six winged horses whinnied their impatience, and Hagrid paused to coo at them. 

Eight of his trees were loaded up and two more would be added for Hogwarts. There would be a nice stack of Galleons from this transaction, and he was sure Professors Sprout and Flitwick could spruce the trees back up once they made it to the castle. Neville wrung his hands nervously as he waited for Hagrid to return, and he did not notice the appearance of Harry Potter until his friend was grinning at him and greeting, “Hey, Neville! This is all yours?”

“Oh!” Neville startled once. Blinked at Harry. Then Harry’s companion. Then cringed back once more. “S-s-sorry. Um. You said - oh - um, yes, these are mine. Erm. Hullo, p-p-Professor.” 

“Longbottom,” Snape said coldly. No scathing commentary followed, though black eyes traced the trees disdainfully. Harry snickered, then elbowed his companion. Neville gulped. Big brown eyes never moved from the imposing figure of his erstwhile potions master, not even when Hagrid boisterously bounded back into the lot humming carols. 

Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets then looked up at Snape. There was something in the glittering of green eyes, the batting of dark lashes, the quirk of pink lips that made Neville think he might be flirting. But Harry? Flirting? And with Snape no less? The expression in Snape’s black eyes was even harder to read, something dark and hot. Neville whimpered in the back of his throat, but neither seemed to notice, intent as they were on each other. 

“You’re helping me, yeah?” Harry asked.

Snape gave an aggrieved sigh, but followed Harry into the trees. As Neville watched them wander off, he heard Hagrid’s distinct, “Erm…” followed by a crash and his loud voice, “I’ll fix it, I’ll fix it!” 

“Oh dear,” came a disapproving voice behind him. Neville pressed his hand over his chest and wondered if he would make it out of this holiday season with his life. Certainly not with his wits. Neville rubbed his face, but he managed a smile when he turned to face Percy Weasley. Percy was on his tiptoes, watching in horrified fascination as trees bobbed up and down as Hagrid shifted them around. Neville tried not to count them. “This is your enterprise, Longbottom?” 

“Yes,” Neville replied miserably. “And it’s Neville, please.” 

“Yes, of course, Neville. Percy Weasley, but Percy is acceptable,” the man said, extending his hand. Having been through this routine a few times before, Neville did not bother telling Percy that they had known each other for years, only shook the slender hand with fond amusement. “You have a permit for this, I take?”

“Yes, of course,” Neville replied. Percy stood straight and tall as he looked down at him expectantly. Neville might have guessed what he wanted if he wasn’t so busy admiring the height of him, the slimness of him, his paleness and those freckles, and the way his glasses glinted in the moonlight. 

“Ahem,” Percy said, blushing faintly. 

“Oh. Oh, right. You need to see it, then?” Neville asked. He dropped his eyes away and felt his own cheeks burning. It was easier to get a look at Percy at Ministry functions or dinners at the Burrow. There were nice, large groups of people there and no one gave Neville a second glance when there were so many other options. 

“Yes, please.” 

Luna was tending to customers near the entrance for him. Red and white ropes encircled the lot and held a number of anti-theft wards. The trees themselves had ribbons tied at the base that would prevent Apparating with them until Neville or Luna removed them. Not that Neville distrusted the people of Hogsmeade, but it was always best to be safe. Besides, if his gran ever found out he hadn’t taken every precaution, she might just hex him. 

A couple stood before Luna looking distinctly uncomfortable. Luna appeared more otherworldly, and madder than ever in the moonlight. In the night her blond hair and blue eyes gleamed silver, her pale skin all the whiter. Her musical, haunting voice warned them of a number of creatures that would be attracted to the trees, then asked if they had children and noted that they must be careful. She held a pair of scissors loosely at the tree’s red ribbon which had not yet been cut. 

“Just a moment,” Neville muttered to Percy, then mouthed, “I’m sorry” to his frightened customers, then leaned in towards Luna. “Um...l-Luna? Maybe you can c-cut the ribbon now?” 

“Certainly,” Luna replied pleasantly. With a snip the ribbon fell to the ground and Neville snatched it up as Luna righted the tree. “Do mind what I said, of course. Leaving out some milk might appease them. Warm milk, if you please.” 

The couple grabbed the tree between them and Disapparated. Luna waved merrily at the empty space they left behind. Madam Rosmerta was entering now, and Neville urged Luna to greet her. Neville took over the money box in her stead and dug right to the bottom for his permit. “Here we are!” Noticing it was a bit crushed he said, “Sorry,” and went about neatening up the little scroll. Percy tapped his foot impatiently until Neville shoved it his way. 

“Right, well and good,” Percy stated as he handed the permit back. “I’m not on duty, of course, but it is always best to check these things. Not many people come by to check permits, you know, not unless there’s a complaint.” This appeared to scandalize him. Neville bit back his laughter and gave a serious nod. 

“Not everyone is as thorough as you, Percy,” Neville said politely. Or he meant it to sound polite. It sounded more flirty, to his ears, and his eye twitched. His face might well burst into flame, but Percy was just as red as he felt. Percy’s posture stiffened, but his eyes fell shyly downward and the “Oh,” he gave sounded awkwardly pleased to Neville’s ear. 

“Ahem,” Percy continued after a moment. “I actually came for a tree.” 

“Great, I can show you - um. Well, I can show you - err - the best ones?” Neville suggested. 

Only Luna was wandering around with Madam Rosmerta, so until she returned fifteen minutes later, Neville was stuck checking customers. Not that Neville minded. He was less pushy a salesman, more prone to allowing discounts or add ons to more assertive customers, but he genuinely liked people and he loved the holidays. Most people loved the holidays, and Neville’s small role in their festivities, providing them lively decor, warmed his heart. These trees (and other items he sold) were passion projects from a few Christmases ago. 

Neville tended to all manner of plants, and could dedicate more time to them now that he’d left the Auror Department and was in a Herbology apprenticeship. Professor Sprout mentioned him taking her place when she retired, but whether or not that happened, Neville was much happier caring for Venomous Tentacula and Devil’s Snare than he had ever been hunting Dark Wizards. And it had allowed him more time this past year to work out the proper diet and charms for his holiday projects.

Primary of those being the trees. Those nearest the radio swayed to the holiday music. Those nearest the outer perimeter shivered from the cold. One nearby wiggled away from a child’s grasping hands. Neville smiled as the child was swooped up into her mother’s arms. 

It was not only trees, though, and Neville headed for the partitioned off area to check the state of his poinsettias and mistletoe, and had to shoo away a pair of snogging teenagers. They must be from the school, and as they darted away giggling, Neville half hoped they wouldn’t run into Snape. And if they did, that Harry could distract him long enough to let them escape. Or at least go easy on them. Then Neville shuddered and determinedly did not think of what Harry would do for Snape to be lax with out-of-bounds, after-curfew students. 

Percy frowned after the teenagers as they ran off and Neville straightened himself and smoothed down the front of his blue robes. Thankfully Percy was a Ministry official and not a Hogwarts one, and after a few seconds of deliberation decided to let the rule breaking pass. Neville’s heart skipped a beat as Percy approached. 

“Neville. Quite the selection you have here,” Percy stated formally. 

“Erm. Right. Thank you?” Neville said. 

Percy cleared his throat. “They are. Ahem. They are high quality trees.”

“Thank you,” Neville repeated.

“I find myself unable to choose one,” Percy carried on, gaining strength and speed as he drew closer. Neville found this more confident aura made him feel slower and weaker. “Too many excellent options. Some too tall, some too short - for my home, anyway. I haven’t found fault with a single one. Only I have yet to find the _perfect_ tree, you understand? One that is just right for my home. One about this tall, perhaps,” Percy said, holding his hand a few inches above his own head, “and this wide,” he took a moment to spread his arms and frowned at the size until he had it just so. “Nice and full, but not too round and not too fluffy. Not too skinny.”

“Just right,” Neville echoed. He blinked at Percy who blinked at him. “Oh. _Oh_. Right. Well, ah, let me - why don’t we - I can show you - um - around, that is.” 

“Yes. Excellent,” Percy agreed. 

The tallest trees were in the center of the lot, as to not draw attention away from the array of shapes and sizes. Now Neville thought he might rearrange them for tomorrow. The larger ones would handle the coolness at the outer edge of the Warming Charms better than the smaller ones. Neville rambled about this and other details as he and Percy walked among the rows of trees. He told Percy of their diet, the more ill-mannered trees still at the farm, of his hassle getting the permit, of rude customers and especially of kind customers. 

The permit section of the conversation carried on longer than it may have with most people, but Percy latched onto this topic with enthusiasm. Percy paid little mind to trees as he ranted about how simple the forms were and how he did not understand the number of people foregoing permits, and the number of Ministry employees not checking for permits, and how unintelligible most people’s signatures were! “What is the point of signing your name when I can’t even read it? Half the time _they_ can’t even read their own writing!” To Neville’s surprise, Percy was just as excited about Neville’s apprenticeship. His advice was given rather patronizingly, but it was likely sound so Neville stored it away for future use. 

“We’ve worked with Hershel Ackers before,” Percy stated smugly. “He is our preferred expert when determining the quality of questionable imports. He even saved us the embarrassment of exporting Fanged Foxglove to France. Martha Butterfield said it was an honest mix-up with the Flirting Foxglove, but I didn’t believe a word of it.” 

“Oh, I’ve worked with her Flirting Foxglove!” Neville claimed excitedly. “I studied them for my own work with - well. With my work.” 

Percy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Work with what? You know experimentation with flora _is_ regulated. Not as strenuously as it should be, but there are certain guidelines and restrictions you should be aware of. I trust Master Ackers has been supervising your studies?” 

“Oh, yes, he has!” Neville hurriedly agreed. 

At this he received a hum and nod of approval, allowing Neville to relax and Percy to finally mind their surroundings. This was their second circuit around the lot, and the first time he had looked around since they began. Both wizards became aware of this at the same time. They flushed brightly, turned anxiously away from one another, and in their nervousness bumped back into each other. Percy straightened more gracefully than Neville, who had never recovered from his clumsiness. As he lay on his face, he wished the dirt would part around him and swallow him whole. It was good dirt, really. Maybe Martha Butterfield could plant some foxglove over his body. 

“Ah - apologies, Neville.” 

Percy helped Neville to his feet and efficiently brushed the dirt from his robes. The brushing carried on perhaps longer than was strictly necessary and, with a clearing of his throat, Percy set about straightening Neville’s robes and stepping back. 

“So, tell me about your project, then,” Percy said brusquely. He was still red and avoiding eye contact. 

“Oh, um,” Neville said. He jerked his head in the direction of the partitioned area. “I have some other Christmassy products. Holly and poinsettias and such. Luna even made wreaths. But, well, my - er - my most, um, my best success was, well -” Percy met his gaze now, thin lips quirked up into a smile. Neville chuckled at himself and grinned back. “It’s - they’re - they’re called Matchmaking Mistletoe.” 

“Oh! What do they do? Matchmake, I suppose. But how does it work?” Percy asked. 

Neville rubbed the back of his head. “Well, they - it’s - they float around, see. They try to find people who are attracted to one another, or who could be. The stronger the connection the stronger the pull of the mistletoe. Bit of a kink, that. What if you took it to a holiday party and they all gathered around the most, um, affectionate couple?” 

“Or around a man and his mistress,” Percy pointed out.

“Or a woman and hers,” Neville agreed. “But I imagine if you had a small gathering, or several of them in a larger area, like Hogwarts, they might work fine. Only I’ve caught people snogging in there all day long. I wonder if Snape caught those students.” Percy was about to speak when Neville’s eyes widened. “Oh no. I hope _Snape_ didn’t go in there.” Percy snorted in surprised laughter. Again, before he could speak a word, Neville was rambling on. “You don’t understand, he came here with Harry. I think they’re on a date! What if he’s - what if they - I don’t want to see Snape snogging anyone!” 

Percy sputtered. “Date?”

“It would be embarrassing if I had to tell Harry to knock it off, but Snape would murder me,” Neville said miserably. 

“Harry can’t be on a date with Snape!”

“Sure looked like a date to me.”

Percy frowned thoughtfully. Neville glanced nervously towards the red-roped area. Before he could make any sort of decision, the wards around the lot flashed red and green, and a cheery bell chimed eight times. 

“Closing time,” Neville breathed gratefully. 

Harry and Snape did walk out of the red-roped section side by side. Harry’s hands were stuffed deeply into his pockets and he unsuccessfully fought a smile. Snape did not quite smile, but he did look unbearably smug. Neville and Percy watched them leave in horrified fascination. 

“Maybe they were just looking,” Percy suggested.

“They might just be friends,” Neville agreed. 

“Snape can have friends,” Percy said.

“Friends he does not kiss.” Neville was going to have a long talk with his mistletoe, just in case. They did not need to get any ideas about setting Snape up with anyone, least of all Harry. 

Together, the pair headed towards the exit. Luna was handing change back to their last customer, who so happened to be Hagrid. He was taking fourteen trees back to Hogwarts, it seemed, and he hastily suggested Neville not look at the sleigh. Agreeing this was probably for the best, Neville kept his eyes averted from the street.

“Oh no!” Neville exclaimed. “We didn’t get your tree!” 

Percy’s mouth twitched. “Oh no. I suppose I must return tomorrow.” 

* * *

At no point the next day did Neville forget about Percy’s intention to drop by. To let off nervous energy, he circled the lot to get ideas for suitable trees. Whenever in sight of the entrance, his head jerked up at any movement. Sometimes it was only Luna pacing around. Other times it was walking in or out. Not yet the customer Neville most wanted to see. 

Madam Puddifoot came bright and early for mistletoe. Hagrid midmorning for a few more trees. Around noon, Ginny Weasley dragged Draco Malfoy by his hand around the lot. She made a point of stopping to talk to Luna and Neville, fingers curled tightly around Draco’s. She glared daggers at him as he pouted. Snape came by during this time to purchase a bouquet of crimson poinsettias. Ginny, Draco, and Luna all looked on curiously, but wisely no one spoke a word as Snape glowered at them. After handing over his sickles, Snape snatched up the bouquet and swept off with his greasy head held high. 

“Does he have a girlfriend, do you reckon?” Ginny asked. 

“Boyfriend,” Neville muttered. 

“Boyfriend?” Draco repeated. He and Ginny exchanged a glance.

“Well, at least he’s being a gentleman about it,” Percy said as he joined their group. He held two to-go cups from Madam Puddifoot’s. His serious brown eyes followed Snape as he walked down the street. Neville’s eyes followed the trail of freckles down Percy’s face to his neck to - 

“Luna, you can take this, can’t you? I’m going to help Percy find a tree.” 

“Do you know who Snape’s boyfriend is?” he heard Ginny ask Luna as he guided Percy away from them. 

“He came in with Harry Potter yesterday,” Luna replied.

“Oh. Well, that can’t be it.” 

Neville and Percy shared an amused look. Neville giggled under his breath. Percy smiled and held one of the cups out to him. 

“Hot cocoa,” Percy explained. 

“Oh! Th-thank you.” 

The cup was pleasantly warm in his hands, but the liquid itself was still unpleasantly hot on his tongue. Neville grimaced, and Percy sympathetically mimicked the gesture. Briefly Neville thought he should have sent Luna instead, but he wasn’t sure Percy would appreciate her warnings of felopeeps and trologs in the trees, or the nargles in the mistletoe. Neville himself would not appreciate Luna and Percy investigating the mistletoe together. Who knew what the nargles would do (or what the mistletoe might do.) 

“You know, I’m rather glad I came back today,” Percy said. “It is easier to appreciate them in the daylight.” 

“Um. Yes,” Neville agreed dumbly. 

“They all have good color, good shape. Not a sickly one in the lot!” Percy said. There was a tinge of color in his cheeks, and his eyes darted around anxiously. Neville smiled into his cup as he risked another sip. Percy rattled on with his impressions, pausing to offer raving compliments to the dancing trees and how in tune they were with the music. One even reached out with its branches to pat Percy’s head, and not only mussed his ginger hair, but knocked his glasses off his face, prodded him in the eye, and left thin red scratches on his neck and face. 

“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry!” Neville gasped in horror. The tree wiggled and lifted its branches in a conciliatory manner. Neville reached out to steady Percy. Lucky he knew a minor healing charm for the scratches, and Percy was able to neaten his hair and glasses. 

“Ahem. A tad overly friendly. That was meant to be friendly, wasn’t it?”

“Um. Yes. They’re not attack trees. I left those at the farm.”

“Right. Good. Still, might do with a warning of some sort,” Percy suggested. His tone was gentler than Neville might have expected from a man who was just attacked by a tree, and a staunch rule-abider besides. 

“This isn’t an official reprimand, is it?” Neville teased. 

“More a, ah, friendly tip,” Percy smiled. He straightened his robes and sighed at a tear he found. 

Neville winced. He wanted to offer to repair it, but he wasn’t sure he trusted his charmwork that far. Sometimes they worked, sometimes his clothing dissolved, without much in between. And much as Neville might like to see Percy sans robe, he would much rather it was consensually done. 

“So, erm, not the tree for you, then?” 

Percy eyed the tree distrustfully. The branches slumped in disappointment. “Ah, perhaps we can look around a bit more. Keep my options open.” 

No other trees attacked Percy, though there was a close call with a tree attempting to scoot away from Lavender Brown’s poking and prodding. Neville took Percy by the elbow and tugged him out of the way. Neville wanted to loop their arms together when Percy shot him a grateful look, but didn’t dare move at all. Which included moving away. Neville’s hand remained gentle against Percy’s elbow, and Percy made no move to pull away. Flitterbys danced in his stomach and they, and the warmth of Percy’s nearness, distracted him from their surroundings. 

“Ah! These look promising,” Percy announced, coming to a stop. 

“Oh! Yes. Yes, they - uh - they look like what you wanted,” Neville agreed. 

“Yes, these are fine specimens,” Percy said, looking between Neville and the trees. “Ahem. Right. Hmm.” 

Neville followed Percy as he walked around the trees. The trees were docile as Percy tenderly examined their branches and knelt down to get a look at the trunks. Percy mmmed and ahhed and the trees shivered with pleasure over his flattery. Neville himself shivered with pleasure, as this was his hard work Percy admired. He could not help but stand a little taller, a little prouder, when Percy assured him of his talent. 

“Now I don’t know that I can decide!” Percy announced cheerily. “Perhaps if I come by another day?” 

“Yes, of course! I - whenever you like. Um, I’ll just - I’ll save these for you, yeah?”

Percy beamed at him.

* * *

It was not the next day or the next or even the next that Percy appeared. Neville hung little signs on the group of trees Percy liked to ward off potential customers. Not the best business practice, perhaps, but a solid romantic one. Or at least a moderately romantic one. Potentially romantic. 

“You like him, don’t you?” Luna asked. 

Neville had perked up at the sight of a redhead entering the lot, but it was Charlie Weasley. He was more tan and more freckled than Percy, and shorter and stockier. They shared the same coppery hair and Neville’s heart could not help but lift when he saw that color gleaming in the sunlight. 

“Charlie? No,” replied Neville. Charlie was good looking, of course, but Neville preferred a man taller than himself. Tall and slender and pale. Neville thought these things, but did not point them out to Luna. And he was glad for this when a tall, slender, pale man entered the lot, only not the one he wanted to see. The last one he wanted to see, actually. 

“P-Professor Snape! W-w-welcome!” Neville stammered.

Snape glowered at him. “Longbottom. With me.” 

“Oh no,” Neville whispered, but dutifully followed the potions master. 

It was to the newly named “Christmas Extras” area Snape led him. Neville gaped in horror at the quivering mistletoe, but thankfully they swarmed away when Snape and Neville drew too near. Smart mistletoe, good mistletoe, Neville thought. 

Snape paid the hovering mistletoe little heed and batted away a curious holly sprig. Neville frowned apologetically at the holly as Snape came to a stop before a glass case of flower arrangements. He jabbed his finger at a small display of snowdrops. They swayed shyly (or fearfully) away from the action. 

“What has been done to them?” 

“Nothing!” Neville cried defensively. “They’re perfect!”

Snape scoffed. “I can see that. How have you treated them?”

“Well!”

Snape’s hands curled into fists. “Longbottom! You are a Herbologist-in-training, is that correct?”

“Erm. Yes, sir. I’m apprenticing with Master Hershel Ackers.” 

“Very good. Then you can tell me, I imagine, _how you grew these snowdrops?_ ” he snarled.

“Oh!” Neville breathed a sigh of relief. Confident as he was in his own work, he could not help but worry that Snape had found fault with them. The relief was enough to overcome his terror of Snape’s sharp tone and the iciness of his glare. “Well, uh, we soaked the seeds in the Winter Blessed potion, sir. Yours, actually. Remember -”

“I remember that your Mr. Ackers owes me a favor, yes,” Snape said impatiently.

“Right, well. We did that and, um. A little charmwork for the snow. See!” The snowdrops hiccuped and little flakes of snow fell beneath them. 

Snape pinched the bridge of his sizable nose. “What charms _exactly_ , Longbottom? I don’t have all day.” 

Neville named a common charm, then gave the incantation for the other that he and Hershel had collaborated on. Snape nodded, then reached inside the case to fondle the snowdrops. Neville would have stopped anyone else, but not only was he intimidated by Snape, he also trusted that the man knew what he was doing. His touch looked quite gentle, really. Actually, if one could overlook the nose and the acid he spewed, those hands might be worth a snog beneath the mistletoe. The touch was knowing, and sensual, and - well, Neville really did not want to be having these sorts of thoughts about Snape. Less so than usual, if Snape was looking to buy Harry flowers. 

They might be for potions, Neville told himself. This seemed plausible when Snape pulled a crimson glass vial out of his robes. Snape held the vial up to the light and swirled it. The vial was only a quarter filled and the liquid within crackled as it was sloshed. Snape tapped the glass, then held it to his ear, and nodded his approval. “I will be taking these,” Snape told him and lifted the snowdrops from their little green vase and into the vial. Snape gave the glass another tap and the buds lifted into the air and hiccuped a spray of snow into the air. Snape smiled, pleased with their performance, and Neville’s jaw dropped. The improvement to the snowdrops was impressive enough, but Snape actually smiled! 

He was not quite handsome, but if he smiled at Harry, then Neville might understand the appeal. That was assuming Snape also didn’t talk to him. 

“I will also need the -” his voice turned mocking as he read the name “ - _candy cane_ _amaryllis_ for Friday, if you please. A dozen. In a solid green vase, if you have one.” 

“Oh, uh, sure,” Neville agreed. 

Snape turned to examine the other wares. “You have holly, I presume?” 

Neville did, in fact, have holly, but after the earlier swat they were all in hiding. Neville assured him he would procure more by Friday and led Snape back up front to be rung up by Luna. Neville looked at the snowdrops in Snape’s hand and wondered. They could not be for a potion, if he was using a potion to give them benefits. And the vial holding them was ornate, with a floral design on either side of the glass. It was more like a miniature vase than anything else. There was nothing to protect the blooms, and Snape routinely fiddled with them to make them more aesthetically appealing. 

They must be a gift for Harry. Or someone. And with that thought - 

“Ten sickles,” Luna told him.

“Wait. Do you have more of that potion,” Neville asked, waving at the vial. 

Snape lifted a brow. “This is worth more than ten sickles, Longbottom.” 

“The snowdrops and the amaryllis. And the holly, too,” Neville offered.

For a moment Snape considered him, then reached into his pocket and pulled out another vial. This one did not have the same designs in the glass, but it was elegantly shaped and a translucent green. Snape gave him an approving nod as he handed it over, and even replied gruffly “And you” to their happy holiday wishes. 

* * *

By the time Percy returned, the snowdrops could dance, build miniature snowmen, and playfully throw miniature snowballs at passersby. One hit Harry right in the nose when he appeared behind Neville. Harry laughed, causing Neville to jump and fall back into the shorter wizard. Harry caught him then righted him and laughed all the more. Neville glanced at the mistletoe in horror. Harry was too short for his preferences, but Neville was not blind. Neville was also not stupid, and he knew no one would ever find his body if Snape found out. One mistletoe moved and Neville’s heart froze in his chest, but it only sneezed. Neville let out a breath.

“Alright there?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Was daydreaming,” Neville chuckled.

“Right. Well, Percy’s looking for you,” Harry said slyly. “Want me to bring him back here?”

Neville looked up at the mistletoe again. Harry followed his gaze and bit back a grin. Neville had been daydreaming the past several days, how he might lure Percy back here to give him the snowdrops. How the mistletoe might drift over to them, every last one gathered above their heads, leaving no choice but to succumb. It was a perfect opportunity. If the mistletoe were really excited, that meant Percy must like him back. 

It was a terrifying thought. More terrifying than the idea that Percy didn’t like him, really.

“No, no, that’s okay!” Neville squeaked. 

Neville darted away, then jogged back to grab the snowdrops. He held them out to Harry. “Do you mind bringing these up to Luna? And ask her to hold them for me?”

“Sure. I have some like this, you know!”

Neville smiled shyly. “Yeah, I wondered if they were going to you.”

Harry blushed, head ducked down, and couldn’t quite hold back his smile. 

* * *

Percy was waiting for him by his grouping of trees, pacing anxiously and muttering under his breath. Neville wiped his sweaty palms down the sides of his robes and cleared his throat. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Percy spun to face him and his hands flew up to pat the top of his curly red hair. Neville’s heart fluttered. “So, have you decided?” 

“Well - no, not quite,” Percy admitted. 

Neville stepped up beside him, his eyes drawn down to two to-go cups sitting on the ground.

“Oh!” Percy picked them up and handed one to Neville. “It might not be so hot anymore, but it’s still cocoa.” 

“Thank you, Percy,” Neville smiled. It was lukewarm when he sipped, but it was thick and sweet and did not burn his tongue. 

“What do you think of the trees? You are the expert, and I want only the best,” Percy said.

“The perfect tree,” Neville agreed. He turned his eyes to them and they straightened themselves for inspection. 

Neville had grown them himself and tended them with love. Hershel oversaw his work, of course, but it was Neville who sang carols to the seeds and went to Snape for nutrient potions. It was Neville cheering their growth and promising them nice homes and lots of presents to protect. They were strong, handsome trees. He could not pick a favorite, not for himself. But for Percy, well, it was Percy who mattered here. What tree fit Percy best? 

There was no real rhyme or reason behind the decision. There was no significant enough difference to say the extra half inch made any difference on this one, or the extra padding meant much at all on that one. They were all equal parts proud and excitable. And in the end it was not the tallest or fluffiest that Neville chose, but the one that stood stiffest when he was looking and frankly quivered with delight when he wasn’t. It was the most Percy-like tree Neville had, and he had every faith that this tree would do Percy proud. 

“This is yours, then,” Neville said, nodding to the proper one. The tree was ramrod straight now, unmoving when Percy strode over to view it appraisingly. One might almost be fooled into thinking the tree wasn’t magical at all, but for the way it held its shape when the wind blew by. Not even a twitch from any branch.

Percy beamed and the tree let out the briefest of sighs. “Perfect.” 

Perfect Percy levitated his perfect tree up front, with Neville trailing happily behind. He was so pleased he could well do a jig, would it not be so embarrassing, or such a risk for injury. Not only was Percy pleased with his chosen tree, but Neville felt particular pride at having matched tree and wizard so, well, _perfectly_. Perhaps he should take a more intimate approach to all purchases. It would be very time consuming, of course, and likely impractical, but it was a fun thought. 

“I’ll take this, Luna. Why don’t you go help Fleur?” Neville suggested.

“Of course,” Luna agreed. “I’ll see if any nargles latched onto her. I did warn you about that mistletoe, Neville.”

“Yes, I know,” Neville smiled. Mistletoe? Was her husband around, then? Bad enough Neville had this romantic idea in the first place, he did not want to make any advances on Percy around other Weasleys. If Luna took Fleur and also found Bill, maybe her lectures about nargles would distract them. 

“Twenty galleons, isn’t it?” Percy asked, already counting out a stack of gold. The metal made pleasant click-clicking noises as they were stacked rhythmically. Neville counted the beat in his head. _One, two, one, two, one, two_. 

“Thank you. Would you like a receipt?”

“Yes, please.” 

Neville knew Percy would like a good receipt. His sales-quill made a note for Neville’s records, then scribbled out the purchase for Percy’s. Neville handed him the slip then, after a brief hesitation, slid the gathering of snowdrops across the table. 

“And, er, this one’s just a gift,” Neville explained. 

The snowdrops perked up and excitedly blew snow directly into Percy’s face. Neville gasped. Percy yelped. Nearby, Pansy Parkinson giggled behind her hand. The snowdrops drooped in shame as Percy wiped the melting flakes from his face, then gave his glasses a thorough wipe. 

“Um. Ahem. Thank you,” Percy said stiffly.

“Sorry,” Neville sighed, his shoulders as slumped as the snowdrops.

The redhead rubbed his face, half annoyed and half something else. And that something else was making a valid attempt to wrangle the annoyance into submission. Percy straightened his stance and his robes, and cleared his throat as he took the snowdrops. 

“That’s quite - quite something, isn’t it? Very - uh - clever. Very clever indeed!” Percy said. 

The snowdrops - and Neville - perked up at this. 

“I - I grew them myself,” Neville told him. Which was silly, seeing as how Neville had grown everything on this lot. “Erm. They’re just a bit more enthusiastic because, well, Snape gave them a potion, see. I, uh, thought it was fun.” Fun to have a nice bouquet shooting snowflakes at people. At least they hadn’t launched snowballs at his face like they had Harry. “Harry liked it. Well, you know. Snape - for - well, for Harry, he - you know, he - Anyway, you’re not Harry, I just thought…” Percy was smiling now, all traces of irritation gone, softened by - well, by something. Neville gulped. He’d basically just admitted...hadn’t he? Was that what Percy heard? Neville hadn’t meant it that way. Only, Neville _did_ like Percy. 

And Neville wasn’t Snape, really (Merlin, he hoped not), but Snape was trying to woo Harry, and Neville was - well, Neville was trying not to be a total prat around Percy. It was all romance in the end, wasn’t it? 

“I am rather fond of them myself,” Percy said. He held the little bouquet close to his chest, his wand held tight and rigid in one hand. The tree bobbled in midair behind him. 

“Oh. Um, good! Great. Splendid. Uh. I’m glad. That's...that’s…”

“Perfect,” Percy breathed. Then he blinked and came back to himself. “Right. Yes. Ahem. Well, I appreciate all of your help. And - and the gift, as well.”

“Of - of course! Anytime!”

Percy spun on his heel and ran face first into the tree. The tree drifted back sheepishly. Neville couldn’t see Percy, but he could see that the back of his neck was bright red. It clashed horribly with his ginger hair, but Neville liked it all the same. Percy’s head was down. It seemed that he might be checking on the snowdrops he held close, and Neville felt his heart melting in his chest. Warmth like that of hot cocoa softened his whole body, and he felt quite liquid as he watched Percy leave with his tree and his flowers. 

* * *

Percy returned to the lot every few days, always with a cup of hot cocoa for Neville. They chatted for a while, Neville roaming the lot with Percy at his side, under the pretense of helping a customer. A very attractive, intelligent customer who brought him warm drinks and was running out of reasons to drop by. Percy left with small purchases - a few sickles for mistletoe and holly, a few galleons for cranberry garland. He nearly splurged on some white flowers for his tree, but blushed and settled on a single sprig of holly. Neville almost told him he didn’t need to buy anything. Almost offered to buy him dinner instead. 

“We could - that is, maybe - you know we - I - pinecones would like nice, I think, with the garland,” Neville rambled instead. 

“Hand over your sickles, Weasley. This display is excruciating, and some of us have business elsewhere.” 

Neville whimpered in the back of his throat. He hadn’t noticed Snape in line behind Percy. There were a few people behind Snape who tittered, but they scampered off when Snape turned his glare to them instead. 

“I thought the ‘display’ was quite helpful, Professor Snape,” Percy argued politely as he neatly stacked his ten sickles on the counter. 

Percy took his receipt and his holly and stepped to the side of the table. He wasn’t leaving! Neville’s belly gave a squirming cheer, half excitement - and half terror because Snape was there now, tapping his foot impatiently. 

“The amaryllis, Longbottom.” 

“The ama- Oh, yes, right, sir. Just a mo’!” 

Percy and Snape were making small talk when Neville returned, Percy politely and Snape begrudgingly. It might have to do with Percy’s compliments of Snape’s rigid standards and how more professionals ought to share his and Neville’s dedication to perfection. 

“Is that so,” Snape said, eying Neville doubtfully. 

“Oh, yes. I’ve yet to see substandard work here,” Percy said. 

“Erm, here’re the amaryllis, sir,” Neville said. He gave the flowers a nice spruce in their green vase. The red and white striped petals stretched luxuriously as Snape leaned closer to examine them. They even daringly stroked the hooked nose when Snape inhaled their fragrance. They smelled strongly of peppermint, Neville knew, with a faint hint of sweet floral beneath it. 

“They are better behaved than the snowdrops, I trust?” Snape asked.

“Did Harry n-ot like them, s-sir?” Neville dared ask. 

Percy schooled his expression into mild disinterest. Neville widened his eyes in a bid for innocence or ignorance, or anything but deep regret and terror. The pink tinge to Snape’s cheeks must have been his imagination, of course, though the irritation of his black eyes was surely not. 

“He is childish enough to enjoy their little games, but I am not,” Snape replied. 

“Right. Well, the amaryllis don’t have snow, you see. They just smell nice and they’re a bit flirty. But nothing untoward, I promise!”

“Let us hope.” 

Neville and Percy watched silently as Snape handed over his galleons. Neville bid him a good day, and bit back his hopes that Harry would like the bouquet. He would, Neville was sure, and Neville could just ask Harry himself. They met for drinks or dinner occasionally with Ron. 

“Does Ron know, do you think?” Neville asked curiously once Snape was gone. The pair watched him stride down the street with his festive flowers in tow. 

“He hasn’t mentioned it,” Percy replied. 

“Must be serious, though, mustn’t it? That was practically an admission!” It was at least a lack of denial, which amounted to the same thing from Snape. 

“It certainly seems that way. At least he is doing well by Harry.”

“Unless they’re ‘sorry for being a prick’ flowers,” Neville suggested. 

Percy’s lips quirked in amusement and Neville had to laugh, though he immediately felt bad. He had no evidence of Snape treating Harry poorly. It was kind of him to accompany Harry while tree shopping, and thoughtful to surprise him with flowers thrice. He even improved upon the flowers with a potion he brewed himself. 

“I dunno, Harry seemed pretty happy last I saw him,” Neville said. 

“Yes, and that’s what matters, isn’t it?” Percy said. “That you’re happy with someone and they are good to you. Even if one of them is a tad bit difficult.” 

Neville’s heart skipped a beat. “Or even a little awkward.” 

"Just so! I’ll - I’ll come back tomorrow to examine your pinecones, shall I?”

* * *

True to his word, Percy arrived the next day with a cup of hot cocoa to view Neville’s pinecones. Percy only spared a glance for the near-empty flower display. “Snape didn’t clear you out, did he?” he had laughed. Neville pretended not to hear him and waxed poetic about his pinecones, though there was nothing extraordinary about them at all. They were preserved with charms and they smelled nice, but they were not so grand as the trees or the flowers or the garland. Percy selected a few anyway and whistled cheerfully as he left with his purchases. 

“Oh, Merlin, what have I done?” Neville groaned when Percy left. 

Surely he hadn’t misread the signs. Even so, perhaps ten dozen white poinsettias (right now out for delivery) was too much. Neville would see no profit on those flowers, and Gran and Hershel both might kill him if they found out. It wasn’t as if Neville needed the money, not with his modest inheritance to keep him afloat. And, well, it might perk Percy right up. They would give him something to look at. Perhaps he would think of Neville when he decorated his tree with them. It might even be a step closer to something more, if they had ever been on that track at all. 

Only, what if they weren’t? What if Neville misconstrued his behavior? Neville was not so handsome or charming as Harry or Ron or even Draco. Sure, Neville had beheaded a snake, but that only got him so far in dates before his partners realized how pants he was in every other aspect of his life. Save Herbology, but Herbology rarely impressed anyone other than people like Hershel, and maybe even Snape on a good day. 

To think of it, Snape wasn’t particularly handsome or charming either, but Harry seemed interested in him. If Neville was desperate enough...well, he wouldn’t ask Snape, but maybe he’d ask Harry what he saw in the potions master. 

“You’ve forgotten?” Luna asked, slowly waving her hand around his left ear. Neville stilled as she leaned closer to peer inside.

Neville let out a shaky laugh. “No wrackspurts, Luna. Just me being an idiot.” 

“Don’t underestimate the wrackspurts, Neville,” Luna warned him gently. Her cool hands cupped around his ears and she first squinted through the dark cavern, then pressed her lips against the funnel to whisper, “Think happy thoughts.” 

“Um.”

“Think about Percy. You do like him, don’t you?”

“Well, yes.”

“Good. Think nice, positive thoughts about Percy. That will drive them away.” 

“Oh, it’s useless. He’s going to think I’m insane. Who just sends a bloke ten _dozen_ flowers? I’ll never see him again! No more hot cocoa, no more strolls…”

“Oooh, you sent him flowers? Is that where the white poinsettias went?” 

“Yes. Snape wasn’t looking for them, was he? Oh no…”

“No, Fleur was asking after them,” Luna replied. “Wasn’t he looking at them the other day? Percy?”

“What? Oh, yes.”

“Oh good. He’ll love them, then.”

“You think?”

“Of course.” 

“Right,” Neville said. He sat there with Luna who hummed contentedly as she walked in circles around him, peering in one ear and then the other. She was right, of course. Percy had wanted those flowers exactly. If the gesture was over the top, at least it was a good gesture, wasn’t it? At least he’d be flattered, even if he thought Neville a bit weird. 

“There, isn’t that better?” Luna asked,. 

“Yes. Much. Thank you, Luna.” He patted her small hand and smiled up at her. He was feeling clearer-headed, and it might have been because his panic had settled, or maybe the wrackspurts really were gone. It was best not to discount Luna, however far-fetched her ideas might seem. 

* * *

The following day was too busy for Neville to worry much, but he found pockets of time throughout to have a nice little fret before customers swarmed again. More people asked after his wreaths and garlands and bouquets than ever, and he wondered if Snape marching up and down Hogsmeade with his flowers had been good advertisement. He would have thought the opposite to be true, but not many people had asked for them before, and Snape had come by just that morning to pick up Yuletide camellias. The green vase and white ribbon gave it an extra festive air, and now everyone wanted crimson and ivory bouquets for their homes or their loved ones. 

There were no more white poinsettias to be found, but thankfully the red variety were more popular. 

Only after the closing wards went off and every last customer was shooed out of the lot did Luna smile and hold out a roll of parchment and a green Madam Pudditoot’s cup. 

“The cocoa is cold, but you should still drink it after the day you’ve had,” Luna said. 

Neville clutched the parchment and cup tightly. The fragile cup began to give beneath his fingers, so he loosened his hold. “He came by? When?” 

“Oh, when the sun was up,” Luna replied airily. 

“Yes, but when? Has it been ages? Oh no!” Neville gulped down the cold cocoa. The sugar did nothing for his nerves and his fingers trembled as he unrolled the letter. 

_Neville Longbottom,_

_Thank you so very much for the poinsettias. They were a lovely touch to the tree. It is really too much, though I most appreciate the gesture._

_My decorations should be complete tomorrow evening, if you would care to come by to see. After all of your help, you deserve to be the first to see the results. I will be happy to provide dinner (one of my mother’s recipes) and perhaps some_ _hot_ _cocoa. I daresay yours will be cold the time it gets to you. Let us say seven for dinner, if you can get away from the lot._

_I missed seeing you today._

_Sincerely,_

_Percy Weasley_

“Oh,” Neville said. 

“He waited for you, you know,” Luna said. “His whole lunch break.” 

“Oh no,” Neville groaned. “But - look, he’s invited me to dinner! And to see his tree. What do I do?”

“Why, you go, of course.”

“Of course. Yes. You’re right. You’re always right, Luna.” 

* * *

Harry agreed to help Luna close up the lot so that Neville could have his date. If it was a date. (“It’s definitely a date,” Harry assured him.) He brought a change of clothes to the lot, but changed his mind last minute and Apparated to his flat. He liked the white jumper better than the purple one, but it was not nice enough to excuse being five minutes late knocking on Percy’s door. White was also not a good color when one planned on drinking hot cocoa, especially if one was as clumsy as Neville. Panic seized his throat. He was late, which Percy would not appreciate, and he was going to spill food and drink all down his front. The flowers had definitely been too much, and Neville was too much of a mess for someone as pristine as Percy - 

But Percy was opening the door, his irritated scowl melting away as he looked Neville up and down. “Oh wow. Hello. Good evening. Do come in, Neville.” 

So perhaps white wasn’t his worst idea. The color was kind to his tan skin and blond hair, and the fit accentuated his toned arms and forgave the pudge around his middle. It was a clean color, his gran liked to say, and was more Christmassy than purple. Neville breathed a bit easier, with Percy’s gaze swaying to his broad shoulders, down to his muscular arms, and he swore he even felt that gaze on his backside as he stepped through the door. 

It was stiflingly warm in the house, a stark change from the bitter cold outside. Neville made no complaint, but his face was always an open book. Percy smiled sheepishly. “Apologies. I find I’m rather chilly most days.” With a tilt of his wand, the Warming Charm lessened by degrees. 

“You didn’t have to do that. This is your home,” Neville said. Cooling the air did little good when there was a Warming Charm sweeping down Neville’s spine. 

“And you are my guest,” Percy said. He held out his arms and looked around pointedly. Neville wiped his sweaty palms on his tan trousers and looked around. 

As one would expect of Percy, the design was a nice balance of minimalistic and homey. There was a matching set of brown couch and armchair in front of a brick fireplace. Several Christmas cards were displayed on the mantle, and a fluffy green garland hung around it. The vial of snowdrops sat on the side table on prominent display. Tasteful fairy lights hung around the parameter of the ceiling, and they and the fire provided the only light in the room. It felt very intimate. Neville rubbed the sides of his legs again. 

The tree stood at the opposite end of the room. It was just the right size for the corner it was in, tall enough to look grand, but not so tall it brushed the ceiling. Strands of cranberry garland were wrapped around the green branches, and the white poinsettias followed a line just above the cranberries. Red, white, and green striped, a simple and elegant ode to the holidays. 

“I’ve seen grander trees, but I like this best,” Percy explained. 

“I do, too,” Neville agreed. “It’s very...it’s a natural beauty. It suits you.” 

The two thoughts were meant to be separate, and though Neville was embarrassed by how they sounded together, he knew them to be true. He timidly glanced at Percy whose warm brown eyes were on him as a delicate flush spread across his cheeks.

“I - thank you,” Percy said. 

Neville very much wanted to kiss him. His cheek first, that urge was strongest. He wanted to feel the warmth against his mouth. Then his lips, of course, he had been thinking of that for so long. A rush of boldness slammed furiously against the walls of his anxiety, begging to be let loose, to cup Percy’s cheek and tell him, just tell him, how lovely he was. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but too many words tried to bubble out at once, so he licked his lips instead and swallowed them back down. The boldness retreated, but he felt it hovering, waiting for the right moment. 

“Hot cocoa, you said?”

“Yes, of course.” 

Oncoming movement caught their attention at the same moment. Both wizards tracked the mistletoe as it zoomed out of another room towards them. Neville gaped up at it as it came to settle above them, trembling with the same nervous energy coursing through Neville himself. 

Neville and Percy looked at each other at the same moment. Neville’s eyes darted back up to the mistletoe. Blasted thing. But wasn’t this what he’d wanted? The very daydream that had been haunting him since Percy first walked onto his lot? Only Neville wasn’t quite ready, he didn’t think. He wanted Percy too much to risk messing this up. Everything should be just so, the way Percy had wanted his tree. 

“Oh sod it. Are we Gryffindors or not?” Percy demanded. 

Before Neville had time to prepare, Percy’s cool hands gripped his face and guided him into the clumsiest, sweetest kiss of his life. (Not that Neville had had many to compare it to.) The softness and trembling of his mouth belied the urgent grasp of his fingers. Neville’s hands came up to rest against Percy’s elbows, and did his best to soothe Percy’s anxiousness with his kiss. _It’s okay, I like you, too. I like you a lot_ , he hoped Percy could hear it, could feel it in his touch. He hoped Percy saw it in the poinsettias and the snowdrops. His own nerves melted away beneath the eager warmth of Percy’s lips. He could hear Percy’s words ringing in his ears. _“Are we Gryffindors or not?”_ Percy had been afraid, too. And braver than Neville to take the initiative. 

“This is a date then, yeah?” Neville asked when they parted.

“Most definitely, yes,” Percy said decisively. Then, less decisively, “If you want it to be, of course.” 

“Oh, I’ve wanted for ages,” Neville agreed. 

“Ages?” Percy laughed. 

“Oh, I - I had a bit of a crush back in - back at Hogwarts,” Neville admitted. “And - well. I don’t know if you remember, but - we, er - we met a bit at the Victory Day gala and - well, you’re still - you’re still you. And I still - like you.” Percy stood so tall and smiled so pleased that Neville could only grin back helplessly. “So - so dinner, then? And - and more kissing, after?”

“Excellent plan! Right this way,” Percy said. 

Percy stumbled forward eagerly, leading the way to the dining room. With his back turned, Neville looked up at the dancing mistletoe and beckoned it forward with a wink. Neville then rushed after his date, the mistletoe zooming eagerly behind him. 

~Fin~


End file.
